


vanilla simple\frosting obvious

by tangerinesilly



Series: Werewolf AU [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Frottage, Hand Feeding, Hand Fetish, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Werewolf Billy Hargrove, dealing with dissociation, homophobic slur, one!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinesilly/pseuds/tangerinesilly
Summary: Steve invites Billy to his Birthday party. He bites.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Werewolf AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153340
Kudos: 74





	vanilla simple\frosting obvious

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so exited! A Halloween special! Love me a budding paranormal romance on a chilly October night ;)

Steve Harrington invited Billy to his Birthday party. Offhandedly, as it was happening. Because it was a surprise Birthday party. And Harrington was a gentlemanly guy. And Billy was at the door.

All pinked cheeked and all over the place, Steve just waved at him. “Hey man, you should come in, the brats,” Steve vaguely pointed towards the yard “they did this,” he shrugged, smiling lopsided and goofy, maybe proud. Always proud. 

The party Billy knew about weeks ago because Max told him. Max dragged him over to the shops, to buy decorations and a present. And a new outfit. She blew everything on a dress and snacks at the food court because budgeting is not in her vocabulary and she’s like five and a half. He’s pretty sure the girl can’t do math too. So he pitched in. Because he and Harrington were cool now. Apparently. Hopefully. 

He paid for the bright blue sweatshirt with a duck on it that Max chose with a yelp “Oh, this is so Steve!” And maybe it was ‘so Steve’. With his constant henning instincts. And being a persistent helpful idiot. Checking in with Max, because like hell she’s ever going to tell Billy anything. Letting Billy crush over at his a few times. Even patching him up that one time he managed to sneak out before it got really hot, albeit leaving a bloody chunk stuck in Neil’s belt. 

Harrington fixed things. Nurtured even. Which wasn’t normal. 

Who invites a guy that smashed a plate over your head for a sleepover? Dumb fuck Harrington. There’s defiantly so much wrong with him. 

And it felt like debt. A debt that he couldn’t really repay. And that didn’t sit right with Billy at all; making him resent Harrington that much more. And yet trying to stick around, hover in his orbit; soak in the warmth, even for a bit. 

Billy bought the golden ribbons that were currently hanging above Steve’s head, forming a futuristic halo. And he made a stupid mixtape that he hid between the folds of the shirt. He wished it wasn’t there, weighing the present in his hand down. 

Maxed jammed through the door, jumping in for a hug. Then turned around to snatch the present from Billy’s hands and chucked it on the table with the rest of them. That simple. She was in. She belonged here. Bitch. 

“So…” Steve leaned in on the door’s frame, his eyes darting around Billy’s face “are you coming in, or…”

Yeah. He was invited. Officially. So he nodded at Steve from where he stood on the porch, and Steve nodded right back before going back inside. 

Billy leaned in from the porch scanning the house. He looked around in a wondrous stupor. The scene was … colorful. The whole thing looked like Steve was turning five and a half. There was a bouncy castle for god’s sake. Probably pin the tail on the donkey too.

Odder than the thing itself where the people invited. None of their classmates were here. Mostly weird adults and babies. Steve’s ex. And her ghoul pet. And now - Billy. 

Billy stuck around for a bit, just observing from his spot near the door. 

A curly kid was already puking on the bouncing castle. There was a cop or someone dressed as a cop idly barbecuing away. A random mom. Max was chipping at a hotdog bun, too impatient to wait for anything, chewing with her mouth open, chatting with another girl. 

It was annoying. He knew none of these people and they were somehow important to Harrington. 

Billy focused on Steve again. He was strutting around the loan in his stupid Scoops uniform, clutching a limp orange string in his hand. Apparently, he got a balloon somewhere, trying to make... a thing out of it. For a small blond baby. This one he knew. Wheeler’s. 

Steve inhaled trying to blow into it, but the orange mess resisted. So he brought a pump, securing his hand over it, going up and down and then up. And down. Billy felt that motion on the inseam of his jeans. His dick giving a kick, while Harrington stroked away. 

Time stilled. Billy didn’t breathe, eyes glued to the motion. He could be an orange balloon, if that all it takes to get pumped full by Steve. He’ll bend and he’ll contour into a flimsy giraffe to get under those hands. 

Billy hastily stepped out of the house, slamming the door behind him. He furiously shook his head, hair hitting him across the face. Letting Harrington get into his head again. Stupid. 

He couldn’t get it together. His brain already secured the memory away up to every detail. The grip, the speed. The handsome vein running up from the wrist. Little red pinky. All there. To come in handy once Billy is alone. 

He decided to return to his safe base -where no stroking Steves live- to his camaro. 

Billy parked on the corner of the street, occasionally listening in on the murmured conversations and children screams against the radio rambling. At one point everything stalled for a Happy Birthday intermission, Billy lowered the volume to listen to the claps and cheers following after. 

Yeah. Maybe he should’ve stayed. He was regretting leaving a little bit. He wanted to see Harrington blowing out the candles all happy, basked in the jumpy light. What did he wish for even? What cake did they get him? 

Billy sneaked back in once the sunset and the party was winding down, people slowly filtering out of the house. Max ran up to him as he was entering, grudgingly informing him that Susan was picking her up. He patted her on the head. And ruffled her hair just to even things out. 

Balloons filled the house covering all the gaudy furniture and questionable wallpaper. He marched on through piles of glitter and confetti on the floor. 

It smelled of smoke and too much sugar, fun pink, and everything gone right. Billy sniffed. He must be allergic. 

Passing through the hall he stepped into the backyard. Steve was lying on the lounger, his hair sticking out at odd places, still in his sailor getup. There was a paper crown on his head. 

Billy fetched a chair, hauling it near the lounger, deliberately dragging the legs on the concrete. Steve startled at the screech, surfacing back from his pondering, quickly rubbing at his eyes. 

All kinds of wrappings and foils circled his lounger, haphazardly lying around in piles. It looked like he stopped unwrapping them some time ago. Got stuck staring at the moon instead. 

_Lunatic._

“Hey,” Steve said faintly like he just woke up. His irises caught the half-crescent light reflecting the warm glow right onto Billy. Telling him to stay. 

It got Billy hooked, tempting to lean in closer. He decided against it. _Two lunatics._

“Hey,” he knew how to fix this. 

“Tough to be a birthday boy, huh?” he rummaged around his front pocket until he found a joint. He stuck it between Steve’s lips to light it, humming a happy birthday tune. 

Smoke curled around Steve’s face, softening the edges, obscuring his puffy eyes and the nervous pinch between his brows. “Thanks, I-” he huffed out “'m not crying” sliding down the lounger. 

They stayed like that for a bit. Not talking much. Steve lying down and Billy in a flimsy seat, passing the joint back and forth. Their fingers would occasionally brush, stinging Billy out of any relaxation. 

It’s weird. A few hours ago there were screams and laughs. And kids running around. And a party going on. All normal. And now it’s just an echo. Now it’s just them. 

“That’s some strong stuff,” Steve coughed. 

“That’s Cali, baby. Home goods,” Billy smugly admitted. “Smuggled them all the way here. Reserved for special occasions only. You don’t wanna know how I sneaked them or where I keep them” he petted his hip.

Steve scrunched his nose at the implication. He closed his eyes, stretching “Oh, this is a special occasion then?” 

“Nah. More like charity. I have a gold heart you know?” Billy tried to smile, only to watch Steve’s face freeze again under the white glow. He stilled hardly breathing, face marble; like he was… he was… 

Steve got weird sometimes. Sort of in a funk. Only it wasn’t as scheduled as Billy’s was. The few times he caught Steve blindly roaming around the woods… he freaked out, just trailing after him. He still doesn’t really know what to do about it? How to even bring this up?

Without outing himself. 

Maybe Steve just needs a good shake. A wake-up call. A shrink. 

God. He’s really into the weird ones. 

Billy looked back at the house. No lights on the second floor. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington weren’t here then. “Where’re your folks?” Billy asked, thinking nothing of it. 

“They uh-” Steve voice was far away again, going somewhere while his mouth contoured around the words. “We’re not on speaking terms right now. It’s-” Steve looked at his palms, thinking how to explain it, “my job, I guess,” he shrugged, “or that I didn’t get into school. Anyhow, they are upset.” He nodded to himself “Yeah.”

Billy nodded “Sucks”, chewing on his nail. He really wanted to bite into something. Anything. This was not a lighthearted buddy talk. He sucks at this. How does Steve do it? 

Steve looked around the wrappings at his feet, at the blue lump on a table near, some rectangle thing lying beside it and then up at Billy, all quiet, but miles more serine. “I’m just… so grateful … and happy, you know?” The joint in his hand twinkled. “Like so happy, it’s too big.” He watched the joint glow, before passing it on.

Billy nodded not getting what he was on about, deciding he’s just not high enough for this. 

“And,” Steve plopped onto his side, to look directly at Billy, “I’m glad we’re not like fighting all the time. More like half the time. You still bite though.” He smiled cheekily. 

Steve looked up at the moon again. Billy followed. _She was beautiful_. 

When he returned, Steve was fishing for something; eyes squinted, chewing on his bottom lip in concentration. Probably sitting on a pile of questions and observations of his own. Like _what big teeth you have_. Or _what big ears you have_. Rude. They aren’t even that big. 

Billy wanted to bolt. Steve let it go, remembering something else. 

“How’s the-” he changed the subject. 

Billy shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “Better.”

Steve scooted over, easily rolling up his t-shirt and tsked. “You didn’t put the lotion on didn’t you?” his fingers traced the raged skin. 

Billy inhaled, pushing the hands on his back into the scars. Unfortunately, it didn’t sting. 

Honestly, Billy didn’t even remember he had them. Except for when he needed to bend down or reach up, pulling on the skin. And really they won’t be staying for much longer. Steve did a good job of patching him up. Ugh. 

From the feel of it. No pus. No infections. Healed corner to corner. Just new baby skin. 

He doesn’t even know how bad it was. Steve didn’t tell him. Just tsked like he did now and got to work. The t-shirt’s back was wet through. Maybe with rain or sweat. Maybe… not. Billy didn’t look at it either. Steve had cut it where it stuck to his back and tossed it out. 

Billy smiled to himself, away from Steve. He should’ve seen himself, working up a fuss just for some scraped skin. Billy’s skin. 

He should’ve seen Billy ripping it and then using the meat suit as a sleeping bag. Hawkins gets like way out of line cold. 

Steve’s fingers went back and worth over the spot. There was a noticeable dip where they traced. Probably the worst bit. 

Billy rolled his eyes, again so Steve couldn’t see. Because he was probably working himself up again. That he didn’t do a good enough job. That he needed to help more or better. That it’s somehow his fault that he is… this. 

All in all, wasted effort. Steve should get a better hobby. Do something cool. Billy for example. And start playing the other kind of nurse. 

“Stop frowning,” Billy sighed. Well, that soured the mood. Really stunk up the party afterglow. At least it smelled like something Billy’s more used to. 

“’m not,” Steve sighed too, planting a warm palm over his back, trying to cover the mark. 

“You heal quickly,” _yeah, you have no idea_. 

He wants to take the joint and snuff it out right against the new skin. Just for the hell of it. So Mother Stevetha will stop his fussing. And put his hand away. 

He should’ve just stayed in his jacket. 

“Billy,” Steve looked up at him, eyes focused and alive. Something mischievous glinting in them. 

“Hm?” 

“I want cake.” Steve clapped his hands together decidedly. 

The munchies must be hitting pretty hard then. “Well get up and get it” Billy shrugged, reclining in his chair. 

Steve’s eyes were instantly on his thighs. He did that a lot actually - stared. Billy thought of it as more of a measuring up kind of thing. Maybe jealousy. But he still flexed. Never a bad show.

“It’s my birthday right?” Steve made his eyes all big. “And I’m so comfortable,” he pouted.

Billy sighed, shoulders rolling down. “Alright.” And then pounced. He grabbed Steve from the lounger, howling him up into the fireman carry, lifting in one swoop. Steve laughed, relaxing completely, hanging over like a sack of potatoes. 

“God, you’re heavy. You sure you need that cake?” Billy readjusted his hold, hand sneaking dangerously close to Steve’s ass. 

Steve pinched his left ear. “Yes, yes I do”. And the other. “And you will be eating it too Hargrove.”

Billy groaned when he saw the cake that they got Steve. 

There on the counter in the kitchen, it towered. Maraschino cherry clad monster. Sprinkles of grief bright. Vanilla dry. Cream layered horror delight. 

Billy scrunched his nose in disgust. He could particularly hear Neil raging “None of that fruity business! Put that down faggot!” 

Steve didn’t hear any of it, chirpily escaping from the hold to dig for utensils. And then he just got right to it. 

“MMm!” he didn’t really chew, just ravaging the monstrosity in seconds. So, so truly happy. Who is he kidding? It’s not the munchies. It’s just Steve and his crippling addiction to all things sweet. 

Steve stopped for a minute letting his belly deal with his bad life choices. A bit of sprinkles stuck to his bottom lip. He licked it off mindlessly, twirling a fork in Billy’s face. 

A glob of saliva pulled at the corners of Billy’s mouth. He wrinkled his nose, fuffing at the offering.

He foolishly yawned, when Steve decided to plunge a fork right into him. While giggling. Alas. Billy was faster clamming his jaws on the ends, effectively biting them off. Then spewing out the little needles moments after.

It wasn’t too bad actually. Metally. Made him wish for something more savory than that stupid fondant. 

Steve was idly licking away at frosting stuck to his fingers, humming around them, sweeping away the remains of the fork under the counter like they didn’t matter. “It’s good” he popped the thumb from his mouth, after swirling around it. “You’re just a hater.” 

Billy swallowed. “It’s not”. Feeling brave, or petty, he unhitched his jaw, daring Steve to stick it to him. Stuff him with gross cake. Prove Neil wrong. 

Steve looked into his red mouth maybe remembering something. Expecting some extra rows of teeth. But Billy wasn’t that kind of beast. 

Unblinking Steve reached over for the cake, breaking off a piece. 

He carefully deposited it to Billy's mouth, hand steady. He gasped when his fingers were met with the slippery tongue, the frosting immediately melting onto it. 

The cake tasted too sweet. Just a gross vanilla lump. But the skin underneath was all sticky and soft. Billy could taste Steve’s pulse right where his phalanges rested on his bottom row. 

_thump thump_

He just wanted to stuff his mouth full of those fingers and run off like a rabid dog. Bit them off clean so Steve will learn his lesson not to stick his digits in dangerous orifices. 

“How is it?” Steve gulped fingers still in Billy’s mouth. 

“Mmh-” Billy smirked, mouth pulling at one side. Only that seemed to push Steve’s fingers deeper. Billy almost choked on them, instinctively biting down. 

And he should’ve stopped right there. Who does that? You can’t impair a birthday boy. Even Billy has some standards! 

Steve gasped, confused about what to do. Then stepped closer, securing his other hand under Billy’s jaw, squeezing lightly “Let go.”

Billy wanted to wale, feeling the juicy bones under his teeth. Hopefully, Steve wasted his wish on staying in one piece. 

He let go. 

Steve freed his hand. He watched it glimmer wet from Billy slobbering over it. Probably counted to five. 

Eyes fixed on Billy, he dragged his index finger through the frosting and popped it into his own mouth. Billy mewled. 

“Huh,” Steve concluded, pulling out his finger and waving it in front of Billy. Billy panted, following the motion intently. “I don’t get it but okay.” Steve eased the grip on Billy’s neck, letting him free. “Go ahead,” he commanded extending his hand. 

And Billy went. He was bad. Break off the chain bad. He lapped at the thin skin between the fingers. Up the slope of the bone. Nuzzled the soft hill of the palm, before biting into it. The puffy vein that runs up the wrist. He finished with the pinky giving it a thorough suck. It trembled in his mouth, small and vulnerable. Billy let it go after kissing at the top for being so brave. 

“You taste so good,” he mumbled, feeling drunk. Like it was a binge. 

Steve tried to sneak a hand in his hair, but Billy snatched it too. He kissed every finger, _one-two-three-,_ face squished between two palms. The pads felt like grapes at the tip of his tongue. Round and bouncy, ready to be popped. Billy behaved. 

To Steve’s protest, he tore off the band-aid on the other hand. The skin red from the plaster, a tiniest sliver of a cut bound around the ring finger. Billy lapped at it, noting the slight change of texture. Tongued it away, until it was all even. See, he could be useful too. 

Steve’s knees felt week. He hauled himself on the counter pulling Billy with him. He slotted right between his legs, shaking. 

Leaning in. Felling _everything_. 

Steve hissed fumbling around for purchase, plopping his hand right into the cake, effectively ruining it. He pushed it aside because it wasn’t important. It landed with a wet splat on the floor. Steve gave a small annoyed grunt which rolled into a moan when Billy pressed in even closer. 

Billy’d probably agree to anything. A lifetime in prison. Donating all of his organs. Licking the floor clean on all fours. Just for them to do something right now. 

Steve was breathing hard beneath him, their eyes finding each other in the dimly lit kitchen. His eyes shown bright, still glowing with the half-moons. Billy couldn’t resist their pull anymore. 

They collided, friction between them hot and slow. Chest to chest claustrophobic. Billy leaned in finding Steve’s upper lip, securing it between his own. Then more and deeper. More teeth. A gentle bite to his jaw. A hot lap at his cheek. Peppery kisses at his neck. By the end of it, Steve will be drenched in his slob. 

He was playing with something delicate. Not made for his ugly paws. 

Billy sneaked his hand under Steve’s shirt, carefully mapping out all of his moles and dots, tracing the ribs, wanting nothing more but to take a chunk out. See how he really tastes. 

Steve’s clean hand finally made it to his hair, patting, and pulling. Maybe trying to placate. It’s bad. Billy is addicted already. 

Steve locked his legs behind Billy’s lower back, securing them in place, chasing that high. Billy leaned into the crook of his neck taking a deep breath, working his hips. 

“C’mon, baby, make some noise for me,” he groaned, going faster, meeting Steve’s thrusts. Their dicks kicking against each other. 

Billy wanted to taste that too. Them. Together. 

“ _Ah_ -”

A lock in the door clicked, jerking them out of their atmosphere. “Shit” Billy rolled his hips again, pressing in hard. 

“Hg- my parents are back.” Steve instantly panicked already trying to straighten the rumples out of his closes. To get out from under Billy. 

“WHa-” Steve’s sticky hand flew to Billy’s face to shut him. Billy was a little slow, his brain activity cut short by blood going elsewhere, determined to finish what they started. Parents or not. 

The light switched on in the hallway indicated they haven’t got much time. Seconds maybe. Steve moved, bucking his hips so Billy would shove off. He leaned out from the counter to assess the situation. 

He saw the heaps of luggage in the hallway. Mom’s heels already neatly standing by the door. Dad’s briefcase on the console.

Billy didn’t waste time, palming at Steve’s ass while he turned away, kissing at his neck. Steve smacked his hands. Shoo.

“Billy, concentrate.” Steve wasn’t playing around anymore. 

Billy nodded, hands still on his hips. Steve caught his face in his palms, shaking, to make him hear what he needs to say. 

“They are back from a trip. Probably tired. I’ll blink the light when they’re asleep. Climb in through the window, yeah?” Steve pushed Billy to the back door, kissing him one last time on the doorstep. “It won’t take long, promise” he pleaded, lips red. 

The last thing Billy saw before the door shut was the true mess he made of Steve: clothes covered in odd wet patches, all rumpled, dick obviously hard in the shorts hiked up too high, the cake on his hand and on the floor, the hickeys and one bite at the base of his neck. The polar opposite of how he met him this evening. 

He adjusted himself in his jeans, smiling. _Good luck explaining this one, Harrington._

Billy headed to his car to bid the time. And while he waits, he will howl at the light shining from the second floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> The one shot curse always gets me. It's so tempting to make a second ep. :(


End file.
